


The Story of the Naughty Maestra's Assistant

by die_traumerei



Series: Castle Terra [8]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Affection, Bondage and Discipline, Caretaking, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Rough Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Trans!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:22:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27135175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale play Naughty Maestra’s Assistant. Porn with feelings.(Originally written for Whumptober 2020.)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Castle Terra [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801759
Comments: 1
Kudos: 39





	The Story of the Naughty Maestra's Assistant

**Author's Note:**

> This was published as part of my Whumptober prompts, but I wanted to break things out to their individual series too, for ease of finding/binging :)
> 
> cw: consensual rough sex, BDSM, nsfw, explicit, some internalized transphobia

Aziraphale smiled, running her hand down Crowley's arse. “So you _can_ be good for me.”

“I really want to be, Maestra,” Crowley said, and moaned when Aziraphale gave her a little smack. She pushed herself up and twisted around to see her beloved Maestra. “I do!”

“Really? Well, that's a shock to me.” Aziraphale said, shaking her head. “Pet, did I not _just_ tell you to keep stretched over my desk?”

“Sorry,” Crowley mumbled, lying back down. She was bent at a right angle, above the waist splayed across her Maestra's desk, her hips hard against the front, legs spread so her feet just touched the floor.

Aziraphale sighed. “I didn't want to do this. I don't want to do _any_ of this, actually. We have to re-file the wool reports, but you're just the naughtiest assistant, and you've got to be punished. Otherwise how will you learn?”

“Yes, Maestra,” Crowley said softly, her cock swelling, pressing hard against the wood of the table. “I'm sorry Maestra.”

“I know you are, pet,” Aziraphale said tenderly, as she stretched Crowley's arms out and tied them to her chair, forcing Crowley to stretch a little more, and of course forcing her to further stillness. Crowley groaned and turned her face to the side, allowed to watch her Maestra. Always allowed that, and good thing too. Aziraphale was naked except for her stockings, her gorgeous body on display, all the dips and dimples and curves of it. The deep scar that gave her tummy an extra fold on one side, her nipples pink and peaked. Her long legs clad in black knitted stocking, tied over her thighs and making Crowley's mouth water. Perhaps she'd be allowed to worship her Maestra's legs later, if she was _incredibly_ good. That was a reward she'd only earned once before, and she was determined to be a good assistant and take her Maestra's cock well, and earn getting those beautiful, strong legs wrapped around her neck while she ate her beloved out.

“I love you very much,” and that was _Aziraphale_ reminding. They were playing roles, and having so much fun with it, but Aziraphale always loved her, and it warmed Crowley to her core, gave her a stupid smile, all that dumb stuff.

“I love you too, Maestra,” Crowley whispered, watching as Aziraphale took the dildo from its box, and slipped it into the harness.

“Do you know why you're being punished, pet?”

“Yes, Maestra. I...I was off in the gardens when you needed me.” Aziraphale started to put on the harness, tightening the leather straps around her thighs, and Crowley bit down on a whimper.

“That's right. You are my assistant, you're supposed to _assist me_. I despair, pet, I really do.” Aziraphale stroked the phallus, now resting over her mons, and Crowley didn't even try to hide the whimper this time.

(It had been a little silly when they'd started this. Aziraphale had been unsure, worried about hurting her, so that first night they'd just cuddled and played with the pretty crystal dildo, Crowley drawing its hard tip over Aziraphale's body and making her sigh and squirm, and letting Aziraphale tease her with it too, not even going near her hole just yet. They'd had the best joke of their lives, comparing hard-ons, as they figured out their way around the harness, laughing and lying on their backs side-by-side, holding each others' cocks, and never mind that Aziraphale's was boughten and Crowley's was home-grown. Somewhere in between the joking and laughing, Crowley had come all over Aziraphale's breasts while she moaned.

The memory made her jerk her hips and growl a little.)

“I'm...I'm sorry Maestra,” Crowley moaned, trying to cover it a little bit.

“Do you know the other reason you need to be punished?” Aziraphale asked tenderly.

“Y-yes, Maestra.” Crowley gasped, feeling Aziraphale's fingertips on her back, over her bottom, there, oh _there_ angel. “I said you shouldn't love me. Wasn't worth it.”

The real reason she was being punished. 'Punished.' Seen and loved and beloved. Her body adored and worshipped, Aziraphale flinging her to the farthest reaches of pleasure, tying her down so she couldn't hide and loving her.

“Good pet, that you remember. What else did you say?”

Unthinking words. About her body. Usually she loved it. Sometimes she didn't.

“That I was ugly. Not really a woman. Just pretended. And pretending ruined lives. Kingdoms.”

A soft kiss on her neck. Aziraphale had actually cried a little, though she'd tried to hide it. “My pet, my beautiful pet. I'm so glad you told me those ugly feelings. I like to remind you that they aren't true. I know you feel them, and I'd never tell you _not_ to feel. But you must remember that we who love you, all the people around you who love you, don't believe that at all. You're our beloved Crowley, our Princess, and you're a woman. And you make everything better, just by existing.”

Crowley was weeping, shuddering. “Stop, please.”

“You know what to say to make me stop,” Aziraphale reminded her. “That isn't it, pet. So because you're my naughty assistant and I love you dearly, you must be reminded of things. I've tied you down to remind you that you are _mine_.”

Holy _fuck_ , that was new. The smack on her bottom at the word _mine_ , and Crowley screamed, short and sharp, and ground her hips against the desk, desperate for something to rub her cock against. She was, she was, she was Aziraphale's pet, her Maestra. She was a woman and she was loved and she was Aziraphale's, forever and ever and ever.

“What a responsive pet!” Aziraphale rewarded her with a kiss, just brushed over her cheek, and slid her hand low again, preparing Crowley. “I'm going to take you, because you're mine, and I like throwing beautiful women down and fucking them blind, so that's what I'm going to do to you, pet.”

“Yes, Maestra,” Crowley rasped, and groaned at the first touch of Aziraphale's fingers _inside her_.

It was nothing to the feel of the dildo when it was time for that, hard, so hard, but her soft angel's thighs against Crowley's when she was done slowly, slowly...

...then not slowly.

Very quickly, actually.

Hard. She fucked Crowley _hard_ , and Crowley yowled and tugged her arms, the scarves biting into her wrists and oh, oh, she was being turned inside out. Her Maestra wanted to teach her a lesson and she wanted to _learn_.

She might possibly have screamed that. That might be why Aziraphale apparently decided to really put her back into it.

“Please, please, please,” Crowley begged, just to beg, she didn't need anything, just her beautiful Maestra, her happy, horny, sexy Aziraphale who loved to top her and played the most wonderful games with Crowley.

Somehow, she managed to last. Somehow, it was only when she was moaning and rocking and Aziraphale was growling at her to hold on, hold on, longer. You're not allowed to come yet, pet, and she held on, until she couldn't any longer.

Crowley blinked, her cheek against the cool, smooth wood of Aziraphale's great desk. They'd even tidied it for tonight. Well, mostly tidied it. Aziraphale was stroking her hair, her messy, sweaty curls, and singing to her softly. She had a very sweet, low voice, and Crowley closed her eyes for a moment, and breathed deep.

“There you are, my love,” Aziraphale said softly. “There we are. My little assistant. Tell me what you've learned.”

“I'm to stay here and help you,” Crowley said softly. “You're a wonderful Maestra. I never run off because I don't like you – you know that, right? I'm just...flighty.”

“I know, little pet,” Aziraphale said tenderly. “Tell me what else you've learned, while I untie your wrists. And she reached, and Crowley realised that Aziraphale was _still inside of her._

Okay, so sometimes a store-bought phallus had advantages.

It hurt a little, when the scarves came off her wrists, and Aziraphale made a soft noise, so Crowley managed to find some words. “I learned I'm. Um. Please don't make me say it, Maestra. Please. It's so... _you're_ beautiful.”

“Oh, pet.” Aziraphale rubbed her back. “My pet. I won't make you say it, I know words hurt sometimes for you.”

Crowley started to cry. She _understood_. “I love you,” she managed.

“Shhhh, I know. I love you too. May I tell you what I think you learned?” she asked tenderly, and Crowley nodded.

“I think you remembered that you're beautiful. Elegant. That you are precious and loved. That you're a woman, through and through. No matter what people thought when you were a baby and couldn't tell them, you're a woman. My wife. My best girl friend,” Aziraphale said. “You have a gorgeous woman's body, and it's perfect for you.” She was slowly, slowly sliding out, and Crowley sighed to feel it. She felt stretched open enough, thanks. “You are cherished, and you make Terra a better place for being here. You've never ruined anything in your life. That was foolish people, who somehow knew you, and didn't love you. I don't understand,” she admitted freely, pulling her cock free while Crowley groaned. “I don't understand not loving you. But there we are – you're with me and not with them, so I win.”

The sound of her undoing the straps and the dildo set aside to be cleaned later. Crowley somehow got the strength to push herself up and groaned again at the sensation flooding into her hips. She was going to have bruises there.

Good.

“Oh, Jesus, Crowley.” Aziraphale was visibly shocked, looking at her, but her voice was still warm and soothing. “Come on, little pet. Into bed with you so I can wipe you down.”

Crowley smiled at her, and let Aziraphale half-carry her to the little bed, laying her down on clean sheets, a soft pillow under her head. There was already a pot of warm water here, and a cloth, and Aziraphale wiped her down. She was so careful where bruises were already coming up, and where Crowley's wrists were raw.

“Let me see to these,” she murmured, and picked up a little pot of fragrant salve, the woody smell further grounding Crowley, bringing her back to herself. Less pet and Maestra now; more... _them_. Just them.

She smiled sleepily. No leg-worship tonight. Maybe tomorrow. She thought she might be spending a lot of time in bed anyway; an ordinary orgasm could take her hard. One like tonight? Oh, she'd be useless for anything but napping and loving on her angel.

Aziraphale smiled when her wrists and the bruises coming up on her hips were soothed. “Welcome back, beloved. How do you feel?”  
“Good. So good. Warm. Sleepy.” Crowley smiled at her. “Words.”

“Words,” Aziraphale agreed. “Stupid things. I love you very much. I'm so proud of you – you took that so well.”

“Love being fucked hard, me,” Crowley mumbled. “You good?”

“I feel _wonderful_ ,” Aziraphale sighed. “Having a cock is delightful. You're a lucky lady.”

Crowley giggled and held out her arm, somehow. Her body felt numb and sparkly at the same time. She might not be able to make words until she'd slept again.

Aziraphale quickly stripped the rest of the way – just her stockings, it took a moment all told – and crawled into bed beside her, pulling up the duvet. “I'll be right here,” she murmured softly, when Crowley snuggled up to her, head pillowed on her bosom. “All night. All tomorrow. All the rest of your life.”

Crowley just smiled and, soothed and sore and feeling whole, fell into a deep, long sleep.


End file.
